


Wherever you lead

by clockwork_spider



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Background Josephine (Dragon Age), Background Leliana (Dragon Age), Existential Crisis, F/M, Groundhog Day, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - In Hushed Whispers, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss, Time Loop, Time Travel, one-sided Lavellan/Cassandra Pentaghast - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockwork_spider/pseuds/clockwork_spider
Summary: Magister Alexius's spell can bend time through the rift, and the Inquisitor is possibly the most powerful rift mage in Thedas.AU where every time you go back to a previous save point, your Inquisitor is using rift magic to travel back in time.
Relationships: Inquisitor & Cassandra Pentaghast, Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast, Lavellan & Cassandra Pentaghast, Lavellan/Cassandra Pentaghast
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Wherever you lead

**Author's Note:**

> This inquisitor is a male Lavellan mage named Lyris. Both the male part and his name are barely mentioned since this is second person POV, but the Lavellan mage part is rather important. 
> 
> This is a timeline where "Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts" happened before "Here Lies the Abyss". The fic came to me before we played "Here Lies the Abyss", so please assume any later reveals doesn't exist.

“You don’t know about them. Put Florian in charge or Antoine? Or _Yvette_? No. Truly. It must be me.” 

You nod along as you listen to Josephine tell you about her life. You've asked her about her home, her family, and their fortune. This is the third time you’ve had this conversation, and truth be told, it’s been difficult to remember what you’ve asked versus what you already know. 

The first time you asked her of her family was mere moments after you made the decision which doomed yours. 

* * *

Your clan had requested help with nearby bandits, and you asked Josephine to request the nobles for help. In retrospect, it is obvious that you should have treated the matter with a greater sense of urgency, but at the moment, you thought it’d be a good chance for the local nobles to redeem themselves and for your clan to build some relationships. You were never one for the Dalish ways. 

You still remember the look on Ambassador Montiliyet’s face when she reported back to you. 

“I’m so sorry,” she had said. 

And you simply said, “I need to go.” 

You wished that you have told her it wasn’t her fault, because it wasn’t. It was _your_ decision that doomed your clan. And as you stare at the Josephine before you, you wonder if that Josephine blames herself. Did her Inquisitor walk away from the war table and never return? Or did he have to learn to deal with the consequences of his action while you get a chance to fix your mistakes? 

* * *

“I’m sorry, I must be boring you with my personal matters.” 

“No. Not at all.” You answer. She must have noticed you spacing out. You can’t help it. People keep telling you what you already know. But this is the first time Lyris have heard about Josephine’s family, he should be more enthused. “You’re invaluable, have I ever told you that?”

“You have, in fact.” Josephine smiles with her eyes. Her sincerity stings a little. 

Oh, that must have been a different conversation. You’ve lost track. 

* * *

The first time you were at Halamshiral, you failed to reconcile the empress and the elven Ambassador. Briala was exiled. You are Dalish, not Orlesian. Still, you thought the kingdom could do better. So you tried again. 

On your second visit to Halamshiral, you let Celene die, and blackmail Gaspard into working for Briala. You thought this was an acceptable outcome. Cassandra, however, did not. 

“The all-powerful Inquisitor with his puppet emperor,” she had said, drunkenly. She blames herself fo exalting you. But this is no longer in her hands, it’s in yours. 

It’s strange. You and Cassandra has never seen each other eye to eye. Perhaps that is why you always strive to win her approval, appreciates her streak of pragmatism all the more when she eventually showed support to your decision to ally with the mages. 

You don’t know if anything can win her over now. 

You’ve always been a little selfish, and of all your companions, you secretly likes Cassandra the most. You’re not afraid of becoming a shadowy puppeteer of the Orlaisian emperor, a player of The Game who dangles people on a string. But you don’t want to live in a world where Cassandra hates you. 

If you have only searched the Palace more carefully, found more evidence to support Briala, another way to reconcile her with Celene… 

You have to try again.

* * *

“There’s been a lot of talk about you lately.” Leliana greets. 

“When is there not?” You ask. 

She gives you the gesture of a smile, a single quirk of lips to one side. The way she studies you is different from before. “You seem to know just when to show up when you’re needed.”

“That’s me, the Herald of Andraste,” you spread your arms open in what you assume is a saintly pose. 

Leliana studies you just a second too long for comfort. “The man has finally decided to live up to his title?” She quirks an eyebrow. 

“It’s a joke, Leliana, I do that.” You did. You’ve been acting as yourself for the past five loops. You know how you behaved. 

“Your confidence is useful,” she says, “just a day ago you still had the oddest look on your face when we call you that.” 

Did you do that? You suppose it has only been a day for her. 

“I’m glad I can be useful,” you crack a lopsided smile. Perhaps you’re not as charming as you thought you were, because she doesn’t smile back. 

* * *

You judge Alexius at your throne. 

“You’ll die now, by my hand, again.” 

He looks at you with a glimmer of realization. “Inquisitor?” He asks, “Did the spell work?”

For a single, unhinged moment, you can’t help but smile at him. A private smile, the promise of a shared secret. 

* * *

“Haven will always be important to you.” Solas had said, in your shared dream. 

That was when you realize how selfish you were. You’ve teared apart the fabric of the universe for Cassandra’s approval, for your own people, but all you’ve done for Haven is a nice memorial. 

What if you were more prepared? What if you start from the very beginning? Could you have saved more people? 

You need time, and time is at your disposal. 

* * *

Before you became the Herald of Andraste, you were a spy for your clan. Spying came naturally to you. You never needed to act too different. Be evasive, be neutral, let other people do the talking. Perhaps that was why you were so comfortable at the Winter Palace, despite how much was at stake. 

You have always worn a mask of yourself. 

But you’ve been slipping, more and more with each loop. How can you remember who you were a week ago, when it’s been months since? You’re acting as a version of yourself in the past, who was acting as an earlier version of yourself in the past. It’s all the same you, isn’t it? 

So why are they looking at you as if you’re someone they no longer recognized? What are you doing wrong?

You can fix this. You just have to try again. 

* * *

Cassandra catches you as you open a rift in the storage room. 

“What are you doing?” She demands. 

“Fixing what I’ve done wrong,” you answer, as you open the rift wider, calculating the exact time. A sharp pain interrupts you. You find her sword through your abdomen. 

The shock of it chokes you. You’ve felt pain, brushed shoulders with death a thousand times, but never at the hands of a friend, never at the hands of Cassandra. (Can you even call her a friend in this cycle? You don’t know. You were too afraid to ask.)

“You’re _not_ the Inquisitor I know,” her face is equal part enraged and terrified.

Suddenly, you remember what you never told Josephine the first time around, so you say it to Cassandra instead “I don’t blame you. This isn’t your fault.” 

You find yourself back in Haven. 

* * *

This time, you’re barely more than strangers. She calls you Herald, not inquisitor. You say something you’ve probably said before, a joke here, a compliment there, and she smiles. Was this the first time you’ve made her smile? It’s so beautiful you think you’d have remembered this. Why don’t you remember this? 

Your vision blurs with tears, and you see her panic, hand reaching out in concern but too scared to touch you. This isn’t right. Lyris is not a particularly sentimental person. You haven’t really cried since you were a child. No wonder Cassandra is confused. You’re doing this wrong. You’re here to fix things and you can’t even play yourself. 

“I like you, Cassandra,” you say aloud. It’s inappropriate and she’s completely bewildered. You don’t know how to live with yourself if she ever finds out the truth. You don’t think you can handle being stabbed by her again. 

You excuse yourself before she panics even more. Later, you tell her homesickness has been messing with your mind. She accepts the answer. 

* * *

You evacuate Haven more successfully this time. You reconcile Celene and Briala. You find every last one of those apostate mages and rebel templars on Cassandra’s list and kill them without remorse. You ask Varric to continue his book. 

“Tell me, what guides you?” She asks. “You always know what to do next. It’s like you can see into the future. I may not always agree with your decisions, but how many could do what you have done?” 

“In truth,” she admits, “I admire you.” 

The irony of her words almost makes you laugh. Things always look easier in hindsight, and you have so much of it. 

‘You guide me,’ you’re almost tempted to say. But that isn’t the truth. The truth is—

“You haven’t seen all the times I’ve failed.” A laugh escapes your throat. She returns your smile with such affection that for a single, hysterical moment, you realize that this is all you’ve ever wanted—Cassandra’s approval, her affection—and she doesn’t know. _She doesn’t even know._

So you tell her everything. 

* * *

It takes her some time to digest your confession, much less time for her affection to turn cold. 

“All this time, I thought I know you as a person, as you’ve been figuring out the least amount of compromise to get what you want.” 

“It is not the only reason.” You say. When she puts it like that, it does sound rather creepy. “I want to do what’s right. By you. By Thedas.” 

“You can’t just _fix_ everything when it doesn’t turn out exactly the way you wanted.”

“Wouldn’t you? If you have the power? How can I claim to have done everything I could if I could have done more?” 

She stares at you, hard. Always judging. Before her, you’re _always_ doing something wrong. “Nobody should have that much power,” she says. 

“So take it from me,” you say, “cut off this arm, or cut me down, if you must. This time, I won’t run.”

Her frown deepens at your revelation, that this isn’t the first confrontation between the two of you, that somewhere, in another world, she cuts you down. 

“That would undo everything we’ve built so far, I cannot make this judgement alone.” 

“Then bring me to the council. Judge me together, as I have judged others on that damned throne.” 

She considers this. Finally, she says, “We will argue for a given amount of time, until we eventually decide that your power is too useful for the Inquisition. Then Leliana and Cullen will draw out a bucket list of things you can fix.”

Silence stretch between the two of you. Cassandra is the one to break it. 

“Wherever you lead us, that was my oath to you.” 

You blink. 

“When I asked you to become the inquisitor, that was what I said. ‘Wherever you lead us’.

"I will not pretend to agree with every one of your decisions, but I've trusted you to make the best decision you can, and you have. You’ve done so much to take us where we are, so stay on this course, and keep doing the best you can. 

"Wherever you lead us, I'll stay by your side, keep you in check. That is my promise to you.”

“And if you end up hating me? I don’t think I’d be able to stand it, Cassandra.” You laugh. 

“Promise me you’ll live with the consequences, and I won’t leave. I’ll cut you down if I have to, but I won’t leave.”

“Even after we defeat Corypheus?” 

“Even after we defeat Corypheus.” 

You laugh again, apologetic. “I’m the second friend who’s asking you to be his judge and executioner. You must be tired of it by now.” 

She smiles back at you. “You just have to make sure it won’t come to that. Without time-travel.” 

“Can’t be _that_ hard.” You say, laughing nervously. 

She reaches out, and places her hands firmly against your shoulders. Her eyes bore into yours, so fiercely sincere it could burn. 

“Thank you, Lyris, for everything you’ve done.” 

“Your best is good enough.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rui for gaming with me, enabling me, and supplying the "You haven't seen all the time I've failed" line. Lyris is both our baby together.
> 
> This fic is a cumulation of my replay frustrations/feels. TFW you accidentally killed your entire clan. TFW you realize you have to exhaust all your companions' dialogue tree all over again cause you don't know which question triggered the companion quest and you didn't save in between. 
> 
> Also... pining for Cassandra is a mood cause she is so hard for our elf. We keep making political choices she disapproves of. But we're 100% sure Lyris has a crush on her and we're determined to give our boy his best shot. (If he still gets shoot down in the end after doing everything "right", then this isn't meant to be.) 
> 
> If you're reading this in the year 2021/beyond... THANK YOU!?! I hope you enjoyed the concept. I only played up to Here Lies the Abyss/Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, so please no spoilers for anything beyond that point. (Solas who?)
> 
> So, technically, Alexius sent us PHYSICALLY through the rift... But having 2 different inquisitors running around OR having our Inquisitor straight up shank his past-self every time can get real dark real quick and I'm not where for THAT level of unhinged.


End file.
